


Stars and Stripes

by mrhd



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Established Relationship, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Suit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26859595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrhd/pseuds/mrhd
Summary: Steve really likes Tony's undersuit.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 90





	Stars and Stripes

**Author's Note:**

> For Kinktober Day 4 Prompt: Latex and Leather. A bit of an interpretation of it. And only two days late!

Steve always thinks Tony looks good. He thinks he looks good in the armor, sleek lines and bold colors, beautiful and powerful, more so because it’s _not_ just armor, it’s a part of Tony. Steve likes him dressed formally too, suits and ties tailored perfectly to the lines of his body, making him look even taller and slimmer than he really is. He likes Tony all messy from the lab, hair sticking up every which way, grease and oil smears on his skin, over his ratty college tops or freshly ruined button downs. And of course he likes Tony naked, skin flushed and shiny with sweat, all bared for Steve to explore with his hands, his lips, his tongue.

But there’s something about Tony in the suit’s golden undersuit that makes Steve’s brain unable to think about anything that isn’t sex. Usually for their team debriefs Tony stays in the armor, helmet off, looking plenty handsome with his bright eyes and helmet hair, but there had been a large dent in the chest plate today, courtesy of an SUV that Tony had stopped with his body before it could smash into civilians.

So Tony had taken the armor off, and the fact that he’s still in the undersuit, instead of letting it reabsorb into his bones, means that Tony had gone naked under the armor today, a distracting thought.

Thank god Jan is here to lead the meeting, because Steve is too busy drooling over his boyfriend. He only feels vaguely embarrassed that everyone probably knows. Tony definitely knows; he’s winked thrice already. Before it would have made Steve blush pink, but now it just makes him excited.

He’s only vaguely aware of Jan declaring the meeting over, much more aware of the way that Tony’s eyes are fixed on him.

Steve nods at him and heads out, Tony on his heels.

“Workshop,” Tony says lowly, into Steve’s ear.

Steve nods and tries not to shiver. He’s afraid that if he turns around or opens his mouth that he’ll end up pining Tony against the wall with no care for who could walk by and see them. Single minded determination gets them to Tony’s workshop, but once they’re inside, Steve stops trying to suppress his impulses and spins, pinning Tony against the door and taking his mouth, one hand on his jaw, thumbing at the soft strands of facial hair, his other squeezing at Tony’s hip.

Tony groans into his mouth and kisses back. He’s good at it, clever with his tongue, knows that Steve likes the scrape of teeth.

“I had no idea watching me get pummeled by vehicles got you so hot and bothered, Cap,” Tony says when they break apart, right into Steve's ear.

Steve shivers. “It's just you,” he says. “Fuck, Tony, this suit is so tight.”

Tony laughs, pressing closer to Steve, sliding one leg in between Steve’s, sliding his tongue into Steve's mouth. Steve can feel his body heat through the thin suit, can feel his muscles, and Steve slides his hands down so he can squeeze Tony’s ass, full and firm.

Tony moans into his mouth, so expressive and open always, arching his back so he can press into Steve’s hands.

“Yours is just as tight,” Tony accuses when they break for breath, gripping Steve’s ass over his uniform pants.

Steve groans as his cock fills as much as possible in the confines of his protective cup. “Yeah,” he agrees, “but who designed my uniform?”

Tony grins, shameless. “If it really bothered you you would have told me to take it out,” he says. “You like showing off your tight ass,” Tony says, smacking it.

Steve groans again. He’s had plenty of disgruntled trainees call him a tight ass, once the shine of working with Captain America came off, but Tony is the only partner Steve’s had that is filthy enough to describe his attraction to Steve’s ass in every dirty way possible, and in some that Steve is sure he’d made up.

Steve doesn't mean to show anything off, not in uniform, and not outside of the bedroom, but he does prefer his suits to be tight, it’s easier to be flexible, to move fast, to fight, without accounting for extra fabric that could catch. But, no, he doesn’t intend to show off his “tight ass”. But he doesn’t exactly mind that Tony is looking.

He takes the opportunity to squeeze Tony’s ass again.

Tony rocks into him, laughing breathlessly. “Yeah, go right for the prize, champ.”

Steve laughs, can’t help himself. Tony has treated him to the absolute filthiest dirty talk Steve has ever heard, even having been in the army, even having spent time in the French brothels. But other times he says the cheekiest, stupidest things.

Tony kisses Steve then, putting his mouth to better use. Tony is an _excellent_ kisser, by far the best Steve has ever kissed. Steve’s never told him so, partially because Tony already knows how good at this he is, and partially because Steve knows that the reason he loves kissing Tony so much is because he loves _Tony_.

Tony who is all encompassing. Steve’s always aware of Iron Man in battle, sure of him, and it’s the same when they’re not fighting against evil robots. Tony always draws Steve’s eye, the long, lean lines of his body, the blue of his eyes and their contrast with his dark bangs and facial hair. And his smile, smirking at some joke, the sultry looks he sends Steve in bed, or the rare, small genuine one that means he’s pleased with himself. Steve likes them all, and he loves when he can feel them against his own lips. Loves the taste of Tony’s mouth, dark and smooth like the coffee he drinks.

They kiss for a long time, Steve growing hard by the second, until finally it’s too much and he has to slide a hand between them to fumble at his belt and zipper.

“Yeah,” Tony says, licking his lips. “Let’s get naked.”

Steve blushes and pets at Tony’s arm. “Do you think…I mean…leave it on?”

Tony grins at him. “Of course, handsome,” he says. His eyes darken. “You know, I’ve been meaning to give you an upgrade. And I have a certain fantasy.”

“Fantasy?” Steve asks, thinking he already has a pretty good idea of what Tony’s fantasy entails. The word comes out breathy, because Tony has dropped both of his hands between them, one hand rubbing at Steve’s cock through his open fly while the other plucks out his protective cup and throws it aside.

“Tony,” Steve says, torn between laughing and groaning.

“I’ll make you another one,” Tony promises, nuzzling up the side of Steve’s neck like a cat, scratching at the soft skin with his facial hair.

Steve gasps and tilts his head to give Tony more room. He wishes that Tony’s beard burn would actually last on him.

Tony nips at the sensitive spot under Steve’s jaw at the same time that he gets a hand properly around Steve’s cock.

Steve gasps a bit and starts rocking into Tony’s hand, sliding his thing in between Tony’s so Tony can grind against it.

“Will you ruin it?” Steve manages to gasp, to think, before he’s too far gone. “If you – ah – if you, in the undersuit…” But Tony is thumbing at the head of Steve’s cock, and it proves to be very distracting.

Luckily, Tony is smart enough to get the gist. “No,” he promises.

Steve just moans again and loses the battle to keep his wits about it, just surrendering to the sensations. Tony’s mouth is back on his, wet and hot, his tongue in Steve’s mouth. Tony’s hand on Steve’s cock, the slide smooth, grip tight, nicks and scars on Tony’s hands from a life of tinkering make it fell unique, make it feel like _him_. Steve has his hand on Tony’s ass, the muscles firm, filling out his palm, smooth sleek from the undersuit, but still body warm. His other hand is cupping at the back of Tony’s head, holding him close, fingers rubbing through Tony’s soft hair. It’s perfect, and would even be sweet except for the fact that every time Steve rocks his hips, he hears the clanking of his belt, still looped through his pants but undone, slapping against both his thighs and Tony’s as they rock together. Instead of the usual slap of sweaty skin on sweaty skin Steve hears the leather of his costume sliding against the smooth material of Tony’s undersuit. It’s partially frustrating, because Steve likes feeling Tony’s skin against his, likes the little pricks of sensation from his body hair, likes the catch of their skin together.

But when he looks down and sees Tony’s golden cock butting into the stripes of his own uniform, well, it makes Steve gasp and tremble. It’s them, Steve and Tony, Cap and Iron Man, Winghead and Shellhead. Steve groans, deep and loud, overwhelmed. He grips at Tony’s ass harder, rocking them together faster, rutting now more than anything.

“Tony,” he gasps. It’s too much, the visuals, the brush of Tony’s breath against his cheek as he pants, the heat building between their bodies, the warm slick glide of his cock against Tony’s, hard and long and still covered in the gold of the undersuit. “Tony, I’m gonna…please, will you?”

“Want to come at the same time, gorgeous?” Tony asks.

Steve nods. “Please. Wanna see…wanna see you come on me.”

Tony groans. He takes them both in his hand and picks up the pace, tightens his grip, and then it’s only a matter of seconds before Steve is coming. He fights against the instinct to close his eyes, and is glad he does, because the sight of his own come striping against Tony’s golden undersuit and Tony’s come against Captain America’s blue leather, are both something he’s happy to commit to his photographic memory.

It takes a long time for Steve to come down, his head on Tony’s shoulder as he pants.

Tony runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, soothing and affectionate.

It makes Steve smile against his neck. Tony’s warm and he smells like a mix of them both, sweat and sex, the metal tang of the Iron Man and a hint of Steve’s own leather. Maybe, Stev thinks, nosing at Tony’s neck to get more of the smell, they can go again before they get cleaned up.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on twitter @mrhdfic or on tumblr @winnifredburkle if you'd like to chat!


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